Boys
by spittingllama7856
Summary: Fem!Draco, Harry/Draco. Neville and Ron wake up Christmas morning and are terrified to think that Harry has a girl in bed with him. Hermione, however, isn't surprised at all and neither is Draco isn't when she catches Theo in bed with Blaise. *undergoing rewrites/editing*
1. Boys

**Just to clarify, Fem!Draco, Harry X Draco. I always see Fem!Harry, Harry x Draco, so I wanted to switch it up. Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, unfortunately, or I would be rolling around in money like a little kid. Rated M. This is my first attempt at writing mature, and, as usual, any constructive criticism is appreciated and welcomed! Happy reading!**

Harry woke up next to someone Christmas morning, sixth year. His eyes widened when he realized who it was. Her hair was cascaded over the pillow, and her back was to him. Her skin was it's usual pale color, and she was still asleep. The night's events came back to him, and he blushed at the thought. The curtains were pulled closed around his bed, but he wasn't sure if any of his roommates had poked their heads in or heard something during the night. Only Neville and Ron were here, but it would still be embarrassing to be discovered.

The girl stirred, and Harry stroked the side of her face.

"Draco," Harry whispered to her, "Happy Christmas." She turned to face him, and smiled. Her grey eyes met his green. She leaned in and kissed him. He pulled her naked body against him, and remembering last night, felt himself go hard.

"Harry," Draco said, "do you know what time it is?"

"Probably around five," Harry answered.

"You ready for round two?" She asked. Harry nodded eagerly, and then she pounced.

Ron woke up to the sounds of someone moaning and panting. Neville was sitting up in his bed, his jaw open in shock. When Neville saw that Ron was awake, he pointed to Harry's bed.

"Harry . . . ahh," the sound of a girl's voice came through the drapes. Ron got up and went to Neville's bed, eyes stuck on Harry's, his eyes wide.

"Do you know who it is?" he mouthed. Neville shook his head. The two boys argued over interrupting Harry, Ron taking the "pro-interruption" side. He won.

"Harry?" Ron asked, making sure he was loud enough to cover up the pants and moans. The sounds immediately stopped.

"Shit!" they heard Harry say. Harry poked his head out from behind the curtain, and there was a shifting on the bed. His face was red and sweaty, his hair plastered to his head. His eyes were ablaze, and his face was bright. "Uh.. yeah?"

"Dude, who are you shagging?" Ron blurted, and Neville buried his face in his hands. Draco laughed behind the curtain.

"What the heck? Ron, that's what you say?" Neville said, his head still down. A hand pulled Harry out of sight, and they heard the whole entire conversation Harry had with the mystery girl.

"Harry, you can tell them who I am, but I'm not done with you," her voice was seductive and Ron desperately wished that Hermione might talk to him like that one day. Poor Neville was horrified.

"Are you sure?" Harry's voice was hoarse.

"Yes, just make them go away. I'm still so ready for you, Harry." Harry's breath hitched. Both Ron and Neville looked extremely uncomfortable, and they were blushing.

"Umm… guys? We're still here, you know," Neville said, his voice high-pitched.

"Right," Harry said. "I'm gonna get her some clothes. Look at the wall, guys." Neville, extremely uncomfortable with the situation, shot off the bed and went into the bathroom, Ron did what Harry said. Harry darted to get one of his robes on, and handed one to Draco. Once they were dressed, they let Neville come back in, and Ron turn around. Both of them gasped.

"Malfoy?"

They'd never seen her so unkempt. Her hair was everywhere and she was all flushed and sweaty. They never realized this, but she was hot. Harry seemed to read their minds and scowled, pulling her closer. She smirked.

"That's my name, don't wear it out," she said, her hand rubbing dangerously close to Harry's member. All three boys in the room gulped.

"Well, I'll be in the common room. Enjoy, um, each other?" Neville shrugged, running out of the room, not wanting to see anymore.

"Me, too. Happy Christmas," Ron said, following close to his friend. Draco turned to Harry and pulled his arm, walking backwards to the shower. This time, they would remember to cast the _Muffliato_ charm.

Ron and Neville sat on the couch next to the fire in the common room when Hermione walked in.

"What's wrong with you two?" She asked, noting their flushed and traumatized faces.

"Harry's got a girl in the room," Neville managed.

"It's almost as bad as walking in on your parents," Ron added.

"Oh. Ew. Who?" Hermione flopped down between them.

"Malfoy," Ron's face twisted with disgust.

"Really? About time," Hermione said, laughing softly.

"What? Hermione!" Neville exclaimed.

"Haven't you guys noticed it? They've been giving each other eyes for weeks. They haven't put any heart into their insults," Hermione said matter-of-factly. Both boys gaped at her.

"Still, it was pretty disturbing, Hermione."

"I know. Walking in on your parents is . . ." she shuddered, obviously remembering the time she did.

"Yep," Ron said, nodding.

"Yeah," Neville said awkwardly, a little out of place, inexperienced on the subject.

"Uh-huh," Hermione said. They sat in silence for a few long, awkward seconds.

"Wanna go eat?" Ron suggested.

"Okay."

"Sure." They stood up and made their way to the Great Hall. Later, when Draco walked in, Hermione smiled at her (Draco sneered back) and Ron's ears turned red. Neville didn't notice. When Harry sat down, Hermione immediately questioned him.

"Is she your girlfriend, now?" Harry snorted.

"No. It was a one-time thing. We've each got our own reputations to hold," Harry said. Hermione hit him on the arm.

"What? How could you do that to her! You probably broke her heart!"

"Yeah, I broke hers," Harry said sarcastically. "I told her I loved her and she told me she didn't. She's right, though. Anyways, it'll never happen again. Not a word," Harry told the group sternly. Hermione turned red and shook her head, Neville sighed in relief (poor Neville), and Ron looked at Harry sympathetically.

"Bet she was great, from the sounds you two made. . ." Ron said, and Hermione hit him on the head with her book.

"Gross, Ron," Neville said, grimacing. Ron just shrugged.

"Anyways, what did you guys get for Christmas?" Harry asked, as if they were just talking about the weather. Hermione scoffed. _Boys._


	2. Secret

**This is for WinchestersPie, at his/her request, I write this! Rated M. Fem!Draco, Harry x Draco, Brave!Ron, Hermione x Ron. Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter!**

Much to Harry and Draco's surprise, there were no rumors about the two of them ever being together during Christmas Break. They were both very thankful that no one heard about them, as it allowed them to sneak out and have sex in the Room of Requirement almost every night. Despite what Harry told Hermione, this was definitely not a one-time thing. They were more careful about it, and no one seemed to notice their absence. Except for Hermione, of course.

"Harry, are you going to go see Draco again, tonight?" Hermione asked abruptly, books clutched against her chest, frown etched on her face. Harry choked on his pumpkin juice.

"W- what?" He spluttered after Ron thumped him on the back and pumpkin juice sprayed everywhere. Hermione vanished the drink that was all over the table and rolled her eyes.

"I know where you've been going every night, you know. You're a very easy person to follow," Hermione sat down next to Harry.

"Mate, why didn't you just tell us you two are going out?" Ron said, looking around Hermione at Harry.

"We're not…" Harry mumbled. Hermione scoffed.

"What do you mean 'we're not'?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Well, nobody's supposed to know, so, as far as you're concerned, we're not," Harry shrugged. Hermione turned red, but dropped the subject.

Draco watched Hermione with careful eyes for a few weeks after she confronted Harry. If she noticed their relationship, what else could she see? Draco hoped she would just stick her nose is somebody else's business. Luckily, Harry told her, she was pretty distracted at the moment, with none other than Ron.

 _Hermione was looking over Harry and Ron's homework, again. She felt pretty bad because she got in an argument with Ron, and made a jibe about Percy. She was going to apologize and do anything to get on Ron's good side again, she didn't like the way he treated her lately._

" _Ron, Amortentia is spelled A-M-O-R-T-E-N-T-I-A , not- Ron, what's wrong?" Hermione looked up from the potions essay Ron still needed to finish. Ron was staring at her intently._

" _Have you read it all, yet?" Ron asked her, leaning off the edge of his seat._

" _Er, no. What's wrong, Ron? You're acting very strange," Hermione's eyebrows were knitted together in concern. Ron sighed._

" _Just read it all, Hermione," he said, burying his face in his hands. Hermione looked back at the essay, occasionally glancing at Ron._

The Omortentia potion is the most powerful love potion in the world. It's said that every person smells something different, and the steam rises in characteristic spirals. For example, I smell my mother's homemade fudge, coconut, and vanilla bean. The spirals sort of look like an otter.

 _Hermione sucked in a breath. She used vanilla body wash. Her favorite food was coconut. Her patronus was an otter. Was Ron… In love with her?_

" _Ron?" She whispered, not daring to speak louder, afraid she was wrong. He looked up and smiled at her, a little apprehensive._

" _Did you get it?" Hermione nodded. She leaned forward and kissed him. They were slow, patient kisses, like they had all the time in the world._

 _They hardly noticed when almost all the Gryffindor's started clapping and cheering. They barely realized that when Ron was on top of Hermione an hour later in his bed that Seamus fled the room. They didn't know that Harry and Neville shot up and ran away when they saw Hermione take off her shirt. They didn't notice that they were the only ones up there for hours. They only saw each other._

" _I love you, Hermione," Ron told her, laying down beside her naked body._

" _I love you, too, Ron," Hermione whispered, turning over and resting her head on Ron's chest. She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep, lover by her side._

Draco snorted when Harry was done telling her what happened.

"Bet that's weird," Draco said.

"Yeah, they're my best friends," Harry said, rubbing her back. They were currently in the Room of Requirement, in a large bed, cuddling together after a long, amazing night.

"Are they disgusting to be around?" Draco asked, playing with a strand of Harry's jet-black hair. She was surprised to find that she was actually interested in Ron and Hermione's relationship, and by how much she loved Harry's hair.

"You've got no idea," Harry said, and placed a kiss on her forehead. Draco smiled.

"That's why we're keeping it secret," Draco said.

"I know. I'm not saying we shouldn't. We're supposed to be enemies, after all," Harry laughed softly. Draco snuggled closer to him, intertwining a leg with his, and made herself comfortable.

"Yeah," Draco said, not at all regretting that she had many a secret.


	3. In the Beginning

"Draco." She ignored the voice, opting instead to turn on her side, away from her mother, hugging her silken pillow to her chest. She was going to stain it with her tears, wasn't she?

" _Draco_ ," Narcissa repeated. Part of her wanted to turn to her mother and cry, to wrap her arms around Narcissa's waist and let the sobs go. Instead, she resolutely ignored the urge, along with her mother.

She could imagine the way Narcissa was standing. She imagined that her arms were crossed slightly, by her waist, not her chest. Her eyes would be worried, slightly watery, her shoulders hunched ever-so-slightly. Draco had seen her like that before, recently, when they found out that Lucius had volunteered the Manor for the Dark Lord. She had been vulnerable, devastated, and it hurt to see her like that. Narcissa was the strongest person Draco knew.

It was sort of an apology to offer the Manor, Draco supposed, for fucking up so bad during her fifth year, though she didn't know what had happened. She wasn't privy to all the details, and it only made her more anxious than relieved that her father believed they were back in the Dark Lord's good graces. The Dark Lord had _let_ Lucius serve time in Azkaban for what happened—had let his Death Eaters get caught and tried without interfering. Something wasn't right, and she knew there _had_ to be something to balance the wrong Lucius committed. Something was going to be taken from them—and she was right.

"Your father didn't want this to happen, Draco." Silence. Draco could hear her mother's breathing before her light footsteps carried her to the bedroom door. "I'm here when you're ready," she finished, softly. The door opened as she left, before it was shut moments later. Draco could imagine that if someone had been listening, which someone probably was, they wouldn't have been able to hear the slight shake in her mother's voice. It was only slight—undetectable.

Draco didn't know how she could ever live up to her mother. Would she ever even get the chance?

~xXx~

Harry didn't think that he was an obsessive person. Hermione implied something of the sort every once in a while, and especially recently, with Malfoy acting strangely. He didn't think it was unreasonable to track her whereabouts, despite both Hermione and Ron telling him to lay off it. But how could he? _Something_ was going on, and he needed to know what. He told himself that it wasn't obsessive or a complete invasion of privacy as he lay in bed at one in the morning, eyes glued to the map in his hands. It was the only way he could do it, otherwise he'd be overwhelmed with guilt.

 _Where did you go . . ._ ? There wasn't much Harry could think of to explain how Malfoy kept disappearing from the Marauder's Map. The map never lied. . . so how could she just leave Hogwarts without anyone finding out or getting caught, at the very least? Harry's eyes scanned the map, trying to find Malfoy again after yet another night of nightmares, the curtains drawn around his bed and tip of his wand alight. It was very late, or perhaps early morning. Either way, his eyes were heavy and itching for sleep. He was about to do so when a sudden movement on the map drew his eyes to a certain corridor—the 7th floor corridor.

Harry's eyes widened as he realized how Malfoy had been, supposedly, leaving the castle almost every night. She _wasn't_. She was using the Room of Requirement. It made sense, finally, how her name kept disappearing from the map. The Marauders had never known about the Room of Requirement.

Excited, exhaustion leaving him, he jumped out of bed and threw on his robes over his pajamas, not really thinking everything through before quickly leaving the dorm and going towards the 7th floor. He paused every few minutes to look at the Map, avoiding Filch and Snape walking around the halls. He didn't think much of what he was doing—he didn't think much of what he was _going_ to do either. All he knew was that he felt compelled to go to her.

He wasn't quite sure what he was feeling, but it wasn't what he would've expected. He pushed it away and focused on catching Malfoy doing something she shouldn't be doing.

When he arrived at the Room of Requirement, he actually did find her doing something she shouldn't be doing. She was _crying_. She must've been upset enough to accidentally leave the door cracked open to the room. Malfoy . . . didn't cry. It wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to just be his enemy, who was above all feelings except hatred for him and pride in her name. If there was anything else, it was cowardice and fear—which Harry could remember on multiple occasions.

But sadness? Stress? Or whatever the hell was causing her to actually _cry_?

That was not right. It wasn't Malfoy.

He found himself wishing for the Malfoy he was used to, who threw hexes and jeered faster than Harry could mutter an insult under his breath. He shook his head, wondering where that thought came from and pushing it aside. He had to be stupid to wish for that kind of conflict.

He realized that he'd been standing outside the door she'd left open, and the Gryffindor inside him wanted nothing more than to burst in the room, wand at the ready, but he thought better of it. It wasn't smart to go waving wands at a girl who, on a regular day, could probably snap said wand in half with only slight hesitation. An upset Malfoy might snap his other wand too, just for good measure. He swallowed, raising his palm to lay flat against the door, and pushed it open slightly, so he could see her. It was thankfully silent as he opened it.

The room was large and rectangular. It looked like what might've been her bedroom in Malfoy Manor. There were bookshelves lining two of the four walls, a large fire going on the right of the room. Malfoy was laying in a silver and green bed, silken sheets draped over herself, body shaking from her sobs. She seemed a lot smaller than he remembered her being.

Harry felt uncomfortable and, strangely, his heart ached for her. He wanted to help, but didn't know how, and all he knew was that he'd never want to see Malfoy like this again.

So, instead of bursting in like he thought he was going to, he gently closed the door and briskly walked back to bed, a sick feeling in his stomach as he went.

~xXx~

" _So_ ," Pansy started purposefully. "How're things going with Blaise?" Pansy's hands folded under her chin as she excitedly leaned forward to get the newest developments from Theo's pursuit of Blaise. Theo snarled at her from his place across from her on his bed, book in hand.

"Say that a little louder, I don't think all of Hogwarts heard you," he bit at her. Draco raised her eyebrows slightly from where she watched a safe distance away from the pair . . . so, Blaise's bed, on the opposite side of the room. Someone was touchy. It wasn't like Blaise was even _at Hogwarts_.

"Sensitive subject, eh?" Pansy asked awkwardly nodding and grimacing, acting like she stupidly stumbled into that line of conversation and didn't know how to back out of it. She was very clearly just trying to tease Theo. Draco's eyebrows raised even more, and she very quickly diverted her attention to the ceiling when his eyes narrowed at Pansy.

"It's not any of your business what I do, or what Blaise does. Frankly, if he and I were holding hands and skipping around Hogwarts between classes, I still wouldn't want to talk to you about _how things are going with Blaise_." Draco bit back a smile, scratching her neck and sharing a discrete, amused glance with Pansy, just waiting for her to say something to Theo . . . she cleared her throat and said:

"D'you think about doing that often, Theo?" Draco coughed back a laugh as Theo threw a pillow at Pansy, blushing furiously and spluttering protests all the while.

Draco laughed, and picked up a pillow to hit Theo with, and laughed some more. He hit her back with his own pillow, not able to resist getting her back for it. Pansy came up from behind, hoping to catch her off guard, but she was prepared. Ultimately, Pansy would win, but Draco could enjoy thinking that, just for a minute, she was on top of the world, their laughter mixing with the thumps of pillows and her own heartbeat.

~xXx~

Harry debated telling Ron about his discovery. While he knew he could tell Ron almost anything, Harry figured that he shouldn't share that. It felt like it was bad, almost, to spread that to someone else when it was clearly not meant to be seen by anyone at all. Still, Harry felt like he should do something about it. He didn't know what made him think that, but he couldn't get his mind off of it.

Why was he even concerned about her? He still believed that she was a Death Eater, and still had reason to believe it. He shouldn't be worried about her in the slightest—she was still Malfoy. She was the same person who had been out to get him every single year since they'd met. So why was he even still thinking about it? She was _Malfoy_! He couldn't seem to make himself understand that there was absolutely no reason to go make sure she was okay. There was absolutely _no reason_ to think that she was anything other than the girl who antagonized him for years.

It seemed like, the more he kept telling himself that, the less he believed it.

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione's question and her grip on his arm startled him out of his thoughts. He realized he'd been staring at his plate for some amount of time, and that he'd probably accidentally ignored everything Ron and Hermione had been saying to him.

"Yeah, why?" He tried to seem like there was nothing on his mind. He just zoned out, was all.

"You seem lost in your thoughts," she replied, expression slightly less worried now that he'd actually replied to her.

"Not really. I just zoned out a bit," Harry said, blushing and trying to play it off as embarrassment, even though he knew it was probably all over his face that he was lying. Thankfully, Hermione just gave him a skeptical look for a second before accepting it. He was glad she didn't push him like she usually did. He gave her a smile and told her he really was fine before she started glancing at him all throughout breakfast with that skeptical expression of hers. As he met her eye, he couldn't help but glance past her head and watch Malfoy playing with her food, looking tired, but smiling in amusement as Nott waved his hands wildly. It looked like he was scolding her or something, and Harry couldn't help the small smile on his lips at the picture they made.

The smile fell from his face when Malfoy's eyes flicked up to meet his, without any contempt on her face once she saw him. She quickly looked back down at her plate, lifting her chin a little as if to look down her nose at her food, red tinting her pale cheeks.

Harry cocked his head to the side, confused. Malfoy, blushing? He didn't even do anything to make her blush, as far as he was aware. She looked . . . embarrassed, not angry, like he thought she was at first. He furrowed his eyebrows and went back to eating, shaking his head. He didn't understand Malfoy, but he was determined to start trying. There was something different about her, and he needed to know what it was.

He promised himself he'd figure it out before the end of Christmas break. He wanted to figure _her_ out. His jaw set in resolve as he thought about it, thinking through exactly what he was going to do to make it happen.

* * *

A/N: Hope you liked this chapter. Siriusly, I would appreciate reviews. If you've stuck around for a while, you'll notice the changes this is undergoing. Much-needed changes. So it's the start of something new for Boys, and it'll be a lot more serious than it originally was.

Fact: The biggest struggle writing Draco and Harry as enemies is remembering to write "Malfoy" and "Potter" when they refer to one another in their heads.


	4. Unusually Large

**A/N: I wanted to thank those of you who really encouraged me to keep writing by favoriting/following/leaving reviews; Boys was one of my first stories and I was going through a really difficult time. My writing style has changed a lot, and it's strange getting used to writing like this again, but I'm so excited to try it again. I'm currently in the process of rewriting the first parts of this story, or at least editing it, so expect to see those soon. Hopefully. But I was really excited to get this one out. :D**

 **This new chapter is my way of saying thanks. Also, I know my Hermione isn't up to standard, but I'm happy with how she turned out for the time being. Sorry for the long A/N, it won't happen again…**

* * *

In retrospect, Draco probably should've realized that nothing would ever be easy for her, no matter how much she wished it to be. Potter was no exception. That didn't mean she couldn't hold onto the perpetual hope that things would suddenly be a breeze for her, though.

It was an early morning in the Great Hall when Hermione Granger bravely slid into the seat across from Draco, a determined expression on her face (whoever said that Granger should've been in Ravenclaw didn't know what they were talking about.) Hardly anyone was awake at that moment, apart from Pansy, Blaise, Granger, Longbottom, and the Weaselette.

Draco hardly acknowledged Granger's presence, except for the rolling of her eyes. She continued to prepare her coffee—which she'd been needing more and more of lately—without so much as looking at the bushy-haired witch in front of her.

"What do you want, Granger?" she drawled, not looking up as she carefully stirred in her preferred amount of creamer—and no, she was not a coffee snob, nor was she picky. She just had a preference, and she would always say to not listen to Blaise or Pansy, or frankly anyone who would say otherwise.

"What are you planning on doing to Harry?" Granger asked. Draco's eyebrow almost raised, but she held her expression firmly. She lifted her eyes to meet the Gryffindor's only after she was finished making her coffee. Her eyes met Granger's, a cool stare coming from Draco and a determined one from the brunette. Granger was an open book, her face alone radiating concern for Potter, fury at Draco's superior stare, uncertainty about being the only Gryffindor at the Slytherin table. Draco was glad that even _Potter_ wasn't that open.

Gryffindors were annoying just to look at.

"I'd say I'm surprised, but I'm really not," Draco said, satisfied when Granger straightened at her tone. She let the smik slide into place when the girl asked: "And what exactly do you mean by that?"

Draco leaned across the table, smirk widening, hair grazing the tabletop. Granger's eyes narrowed.

"I'm not surprised you haven't already figured it out," she baited. Her satisfaction and amusement grew as Granger bristled. "We both know that you aren't really the Brightest Witch of Our Age. After all, you're dating the Weasel, a troll of a human." It came out as a half-whisper, as though she was gossiping with Pansy.

"And let me guess, _you're_ the Brightest Witch of Our Age?" Granger bit back, eyes flashing.

Draco grinned, leaning back and grabbing the handle of her mug, bringing it to her lips before speaking.

"You're the one who suggested it, not me," Draco replied evenly. Her amusement slipped into her tone. Granger reddened in anger, crossing her arms as she did so often.

"That doesn't amuse me," she said flatly. Her lack of a good retort was saddening. Her troll of a human boyfriend must've been literally fucking her brains out since they started dating. What a shame.

"I'm not keen on hearing your laughter, Granger. It sounds rather similar to Moaning Myrtle on a good day, doesn't it?" The smirk widened as Granger let out an angry sigh and stood to leave.

"If I hear of a _single thing_ from Harry about you—"

"Even that I give good head? Potter finally gets something pleasant in his life and you'll want to take it away. Tch, tch, and I thought Slytherins were the jealous type." Granger didn't even hear out the rest of the insult before she was marching back to her troll, who glared at Draco after taking Granger into a hug. As if _Granger_ was the one who needed the comfort—Draco was the one hurt by the accusations.

...well, she wasn't _entirely_ wrong, but Draco never intended to hurt Potter directly. She didn't have a choice in the matter, anyways.

Pansy interrupted her ever-darkening thoughts, sliding up beside her, curling her arm around Draco's, as if they were literally attached at the hip. Her sickly perfume filled Draco's nostrils, and despite how much she tried, she was unable to imagine life without that scent. She absently thought that Pansy must've been the reason straight girls were straight at Hogwarts—and why Blaise and Theodore were a little more gay than they claimed to be. Which was a lot.

"What's this I hear? Hermione Granger threatening you over Potter's safety?" Pansy asked conspiratorially. Draco chuckled.

"Next, she'll be convinced I've jinxed her teeth back to their regular size," she replied, playing along.

"Only because Weasley will notice them catching on his dick when she—"

"Pans, are we talking about Weasley's unusually large penis again?" Blaise interjected, having listened in on their conversation while sitting a little ways down the table, until deciding to make his most dramatic entrance. As Blaise did.

"We don't know it's unusually large—unless there's something you want to tell us, Blaise," Pansy said, squinting at the Italian before he shrugged.

"If I knew, I would come straight to you. You're my number one priority." He winked at her and flashed a mocking smile, which Draco knew meant he was joking around. Pany flipped her hair, batting her eyelashes playfully as Draco watched, amused, sipping her coffee. It was as if Pansy was trying to jokingly seduce Blaise for information, but it fell into the more "desperate" category than anything.

"And details?" Pansy prompted Blaise. She leaned forward on her elbows, resting her chin in her hands, looking, for all her worth, like an innocent little flower.

"Oh no, Pans. _Pictures_ ," he assured her. She sighed, back of her hand coming to rest on her forehead, almost as if swooning over the thought. Draco snorted. It was funny, how Blaise was completely unaware of how much Pansy had been dying to get inside his pants for the past three years, and that this was a step closer in that direction. Blaise was unknowingly—or maybe not—giving Pansy hope that something would come of them.

Silence blanketed their conversation as they waited for the House Elves to send up breakfast. Not many people were in the Great Hall yet, and a quick _Tempus_ showed that they wouldn't have to wait too long for food. In the silence, their amusement faded and the grim heaviness settled back in Draco's stomach. She could see the tension the other two Slytherins felt, in their posture and their eyes. Slytherins were notorious for their masks, but around their friends, they could never lie. What Draco was doing was tearing them apart, and she was afraid. But no one could ever know. And especially not Potter.


End file.
